Organized Noize - 5, Deuce, 4, Tre lyrics

In background of hook: {Hey, hey, hey, hey} [Hook] I'm still buckin' like five, deuce, four, tre Shawt, shawty (somebody better tell 'em) I'm still buckin' like five, deuce, four, tre (I'm Mr. Fat Face) I come through swervin' (somebody better tell 'em) I'm still buckin' like five, deuce, four, tre Shawt, shawty (somebody better tell 'em) I'm still buckin' like five, deuce, four, tre (I'm Mr. Fat Face) I come through swervin' (somebody better tell 'em) [Verse 1] I'm born and bred on that k**er They call it Front Street, know about it n***a He work the concretes 'til break daylight You see him post up in the cut, how many? I ain't servin' nothin' but pure products I spoke that raw, quote that slang, tote that thang I'm talkin' 'bout I ain't stressin' nothing but pain Keep the Cheverolet funked out I ain't f**in' witcha girl unless you all chonked out I come through, tear that a** up Whippin' wood grain and he all gla**ed up You see him swervin' on some seventeen-nines I'm Mr. F.F. Hundred say I'm right everytime [Hook] [Verse 2] Talk a dollar outta dime, drinkin' liq wit lime Pull out sideways and leave these s**as from the line Over time, like ten 'til, see 'em grin with the grill Superclean see a gleam through the windsheild It's everyday like the clock tick Hit me with some super thick up in the co*kpit It's off limits baby, you see the handstiched material Workin' the original interial Up in a coma, get he and Bean up out the trunk I step on stage and get the whole place crunk Always garuntee freind-shh y'all You shoulda rocked the microphone to this, y'all Yes sir, hold on, hold the dice Set these down, then I'm gone One more shot cause I'm on tonight I shook another fifty-two Now tell me what do they wants to do? [Hook] [Verse 3] I supply these motherf**ers with the right dosage Now hear, bust it open, get it smokin', that's him Sack it up and watch it jump out the gym Shorty told you what it is when you come through here This s**er emcee say he lookin' for me Tell him, ain't nothin' n***a, is you the police When I put the mic down they say they found residue And the laws wanna charge me for verbal abuse Blow smoke up out the roof, cause they ain't got no proof Six-eights, skate Decatur, they a** through, I'm sayin' Go getcha a** bread, ya undertsand Man these n***as think I'm playin' (Man they boy for real) [Hook] {*scratching*} Five, deuce, four, tre Shawt, shawty (repeat to fade)